


The Gift That Keeps On Giving

by everyperfectsummer



Series: Coldwave week [1]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canonical Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 09:04:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11802876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everyperfectsummer/pseuds/everyperfectsummer
Summary: Mick gets Len ice roses for their anniversary.





	The Gift That Keeps On Giving

**Author's Note:**

> Heavy triggers for abuse and for Len being an unreliable, self blaming narrator about it all. Also triggers for food mentions and for past access to food being controlled.  
> Please let me know if I missed any other triggers!

When Len is thirteen years old, his father gets him a fancy bike for his birthday. It’s amazing, with tons of settings and beautiful wheels and gears and things. Here’s the catch: Len never needed a bike, didn’t want one all that much, and was glad to have it, but – well, here’s the second catch: after he bought him the bike, Dad stopped paying for Len’s food, leaving him to rely on free meals from school and what he could steal for himself, on the grounds that Dad’d spent all the food money on a bike for Len, telling him that this was his own fault and his own decision. 

 

Over the years, Dad repeated that trick with Len and with Lisa, getting them presents regardless of whether or not they wanted them, and then withholding necessities, and calling them spoiled for wanting both. It was easier with presents they didn’t want in the first place, more clear cut of a problem. When he did give them stuff they had wanted – and American Girl Doll for Lisa, a fancy pocket knife for Len – it’s harder, because it feels like their own fault, like they shouldn’t have wanted it, like they really are spoiled, and it’s. It sucks.

 

Abuse is – it’s permanent. It changes how you are,  _ who _ you are, for the rest of your life. And for all that Len wishes his dad had been different, part of him wouldn’t change it, wouldn’t change what made him who he is. Because for all that his dad messed him up, he is who he is because of it. He is the person with the plan and the backup plan and the backup back up plan, he’s the supervillain and the person who saved time, he’s not in control of things around him but he is good at manipulating out-of-control things into going his way, and most of the time, he’s happy. 

 

Right now, he’s also the person having a silent and completely idiotic freakout at his and Mick’s anniversary. Because Mick, completely understandably, gave him a gift. Which is ok. Should be ok. Len got him a gift too. He should not be panicking right now. Gifts are an anniversary thing. Gifts are fine. This is fine.  _ He’s  _ fine.

 

He slowly and deliberately breathes in and out, deep breaths, trying to calm down at the sight of the ice roses on the table, and looks back up at Mick only to see him looking sad and guilty.

 

“Sorry, I thought you might like them but I can get you something else –” Mick begins, and Len shakes his head, and tries to smile.

 

“Not your fault,” he says, skin pulled back over his teeth in a grimace. “Lewis thing.”

 

The heartbreak doesn’t leave Mick’s eyes, but the guilt does, which somehow makes Len feel better, too.

 

“Do you need me to get rid of the flowers?” Mick asks, and Len shakes his head rapidly, because wasting a gift entirely is even worse than it being wasted on him.

 

He has a lot of triggers from Dad, some that he’s still discovering. Teacups, being grabbed from behind, other people drinking alcohol. People saying “I love you.” Well, that’s not quite right.  _ Sometimes _ Mick or Lisa or the Legends or the Rogues telling him they love him makes him feel warm, cared for, appreciated. Sometimes, it leaves him panicky, guilty, trapped. And apparently, a newly discovered trigger is gifts.

 

Not all gifts; Mick has given him plenty of gifts before. So has Lisa. Some have been more expensive than this. So it makes no sense that he’s looking at the flowers and thinking about having to ration food and medical care and basic necessities for the next month or so, but he  _ is _ and he doesn’t know how to stop.

 

So he tries to remind himself that Dad’s not here, that he and Mick have separate stashes of money in case of emergencies, that Mick won’t cut him off of food and stuff and couldn’t even if he wanted to, and he tries but it’s not helping.

 

A long time ago, he would’ve been crying by now. Instead, he just feels cold all over.

 

“Is a hug ok?” he hears Mick say from what sounds like a long way away.

 

He makes himself nod, and feels himself enveloped in warmth.

 

“However this triggered you, let me know, so that I don’t do this again, ok?” Mick says, and Len nods.

 

“First, can I go through the cupboards for food to hide from you?” Len says, and Mick murmurs agreement. It won’t be the first time that Len’s felt the need to hide food from Mick, to give himself a sense of security, and Mick has always been supportive, even suggested that Len goes grocery shopping on his own sometimes so that Mick  _ can’t _ know what all food they’ve got in the house, and if any is missing.

 

Mick releases him from the hug, and steps back. “I’m going to wait in the hall while you hide things, and then you tell me when it’s ok to come back, ok?”

 

Len smiles at him, genuinely this time. “See you in a bit, then.”

 

Mick turns and walks out the door, and Len begins to sort their groceries into stuff he can hide and eat without Mick knowing about it, and stuff he can’t. Soon, about half of the stuff from the first group has been squirrelled away in various places around the apartment, accompanying his earlier stashes, and Len breathes a sigh of relief. He then goes to the door, opening it to find Mick playing a game on his phone.

 

“All done.”

 

Mick smiles at him, eyes concerned, and says, “Do you still want to go out to a movie for our anniversary or?” He lets the sentence hang in the air.

 

“Mind if we stay in?” Len says, reminding himself that this is Mick, that he’s allowed to ask for things now.

 

Mick walks inside the apartment. “Sure.”

 

They end up cuddled on the couch, watching Jurassic Park with a bowl of popcorn shared between them. As they watch dinosaurs chase people around, Len slowly explains: about the bike, about the doll, about the food, about the guilt, about being called spoiled and entitled and sometimes feeling that way. Mick listens nonjudgmentally and then says, “Was there something wrong about this gift in particular that made it triggering?” Len knows he’s comparing it to gifts in the past that were greeted with joy and kissing and puns instead of silent panic.

 

“Not that I can think of?” Len says. “It just  _ was _ different, I don’t know why.”

 

“Do you want me to stop giving you gifts?” Mick asks, and Len shakes his head, before reconsidering. 

 

“I don’t know? I don’t like panicking but I do like it when you give me stuff. Most of the time, anyway.”

 

Mick nods, like that’s totally reasonable instead of completely dumb, and reaches out to squeeze Len’s hand. “We’ll figure it out,” Mick promises, “Whatever we end up doing gift wise, it’ll be ok. Ok?”

 

Len squeezes back. “Ok,” he says. He wouldn't believe it coming from anybody else, but from Mick, he does.


End file.
